Life is my litterbox ... Grab the SCOOP!

Monday, July 10, 2006

Meet the "Feline Americans"

Each evening, I split a "treat" can of Sheba cat food ... I've noticed that many of you refer to this delight as "stinky goodness" ... with five panty-waist neuter-boys whom I've dubbed the "Feline Americans." IQ-wise, they're virtually interchangeable ... none holds a candle to my undeniable brilliance and charisma. However, looks and personality differ widely. So, let's meet the boys who share my digs:

The oldest is a seventeen-year-old wuss of a Maine Coon named FUDGE RIPPLE. He moved in on April 28, 1990 and is the last surviving member of the "Old Guard". He's afraid of his shadow, but does have INCREDIBLE taste in food. He's a master beggar and gets tidbits and table scraps on a daily basis to flesh out his skinny frame. When he heads for the kitchen table, I know to beat feet to my chair and make my presence known so that I can share in the wealth.

I, DAISYMAE MAUS, mistress of the house and all that I survey, come next in the age-ranking (although I'm obviously the top of the feline hierarchy, natch!) ... I'm nearly thirteen and my "gotcha-day" (thanks for the more accurate term than birthday) was December 31, 1997.

COCOA PUFF, aka Puffy Stuff, is a Siamese, but you wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him unless you heard his voice or got a good look at his skinny legs and tail. Puffy is nearly nine years old and weighs close to thirty pounds. His bite is far worse than his "tiny boy" bark portrays. He's a master manipulator and knows the words "can" and "snack" ... Which, in my book, makes him pretty bright. He screws up my opinion of him though by thinking that size equals power ... Nuh, uh ... No way. I'm the boss. Anyway, check out his picture. He's pretty good looking and has changed much from his kitten days when he looked like a FRUIT BAT. One of these days I'll have to sneak the pictures of him dressed in drag ... He was a riot and didn't know that when he won the Halloween costume contest that first prize was a free neutering. What a wonder-dummy!!!

SPARKY FUZZYPANTS just had his eighth anniversary of his "gotcha day" last week. He would be a prima donna if he weren't such a bonehead. In fact, a girl could get a complex hanging around a guy who's so pretty. Sparky talks to bugs and sings invitations to the local stray cats. I think that he's a real dingbat. I love to tease him and mock his grooming style. For a guy with a room-temperature IQ, Sparky does have a good memory ... And a mean left hook.

Oh, further evidence that Mr. Fuzzypants is a tad "off" ... Check out his SALAD!

Our token ginger is a five-year-old "teddy bear" named PUMPKIN. He's the strong, silent ... And kinda shy type. He spends most of his day under the bed in the master suite. He likes chasing Scrunchees and playing in piles of clean clothes (don't tell, but Pumpkin has a panty fetish). Since he's so shy, the only clear photo that I could scrounge up was a pretty embarrassing Christmas shot when Pumpkin was modeling a Rudolph Reindeer hood. Whoa. Not a good look, dude. The costume SERIOUSLY questions your masculinity, but I still think that you're sexy.

Finally, the bane of my existence and the biggest pain-in-the-butt that I've ever met is a Siamese-mix ... He's always calling my attention to his pretty blue eyes ...Rub my nose in it, whydon'tcha!!! Anyway, he's three years old and his name is LUCKY CHARMZ. The staff call him "Prince Charming" ... What a crock! There's nothing charming about him. He monopolizes the toys. He makes the "treat" divisible by SIX instead of by FIVE. He sneaks in and sleeps on MY bed. And, I'm ashamed to admit, he can beat me up. There. I've said it. My Achilles' Heel is ... Lucky. Drat.

Lucky Charmz says: Hey everyone. Look! Maus has a blog ... Stay tuned for missives from me as I plan to pirate her blog whatever chance I get. Bwah ha ha ...

DaisyMae Maus: HEY! Back off, you flashy little TWIT! This blog is MINE! Get your own ... If you've got the cojones ... Didn't think so ... Oh, yeah ... I forgot that you've been neutered. Neener, neener!!

By the way, tonight we had chicken split six ways ...

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